Marked for Death
by Travelingthrough
Summary: My thoughts on what happens after Lisbon and Jane talk post episode one of Season 6. Therefore spoilers for Season 6, avoid if you don't want that. Just some words attempted to be spoken between Lisbon and Jane. Originally posted as I'm Scared, name change to avoid confusion with other stories here.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, am simply borrowing them for the purposes of this story.

AN: A short piece based on spoilers from the first episode of Season 6. Not very likely to happen in the actual programme, but I can dream!

I'm Scared

She's sitting on the couch wondering whether she should risk another shower. It's nearly 2am and Lisbon has already been under the hot spray of her shower for close to an hour tonight… She's been trying to wash away invisible marks ever since she got home.

The marks Red John left on her skin are long gone, but she can still feel his mark on her and is afraid that she has been indelibly branded by him now. Lisbon is next, or if not next she is resolutely marked for death. No amount of hot water and expensive body lotion can rub that fact away.

She is glad for this peace, this solitude that she can enjoy in her apartment but that doesn't mean she hadn't wish for another ending to this evening. She wishes she could have had some sort of resolution with Jane, their fight earlier and the subsequent insanity of the day has left them more estranged than they have been for months.

Lisbon half expected him to follow her home and hover in that insufferably wonderful way he has. She knows she won't sleep tonight and was at least hoping to have resolved some of her hurt with her partner. They talked briefly earlier when she was found, but that was deeply unsatisfying in its outcome. He held her hands with a passionate intensity when he first found her and she had worn the marks of Red Johns' hatred all over her face.

She wanted so much to hold him and to be held. But she didn't and she wasn't, so she sits alone on her couch and wonders if hot water will quench the ache in her that makes her want to feel warm and alive and necessary.

Lisbon tugs the soft blanket tighter around her shoulders as she sits back and tries so very hard not to cry. She hates feeling so sorry for herself, but while she is within these walls and alone she allows her fear and disquiet to take hold.

She hears the soft banging at the door for several moments before she consciously admits what the noise means. Someone is at her door and really, at this time of the morning, and on this particular day who else could it be. She groans in weary acceptance that she will not be permitted to wallow alone for much longer.

Wrapped in the blanket Lisbon stumbles to the door and tries to put on the mask she knows she will need to survive whatever they are going to say to each other.

"Lisbon it's Jane, please let me in."

She opens the door just as he has begun to make his pleas to gain entrance, and is struck all over again by how utterly weary he looks. When they argued earlier part of her was focusing on how tired he appeared and what she could possibly do to help – and tonight he looks to have entered into a completely different state of exhaustion and near collapse.

"Have a little patience, Jane – you can come in."

She steps back from the door as he walks into her home. She closes and locks the door, trying to buy herself another few precious seconds to herself to prepare herself for another argument.

She closes her eyes, takes two deliberate and calming breaths and then turns to face her partner. As soon as her back is to the front door Jane rushes towards her and wraps both of his arms round her and pulls her determinedly against him. She is almost trapped against him; her arms tucked against her sides as Jane tightens his hold and pulls her further towards him. His head is on her shoulder, and she can feel the staccato beat of his heart through the thick barriers of their clothing.

Jane wonders if he will ever be able to leave this place, if he will ever be able to function without her in the cradle of his arms. With supreme force of will he allowed her to walk away from him earlier tonight, but he is tired of letting her go places without him. He needs to know she breathes and that Red John has left her with him for a little while longer. He is on the precipice of hysteria, using the solidness of her frame to tether him to sense and sanity and life. He wonders if he can communicate all of this to her with the tenderness of his touch and his breath in her hair.

"I'm okay, Jane. You know this. I'm okay. I know he messed with us today, but we're both still here. It's going to be okay."

She understands the emptiness of her words as they leave her mouth, but she feels the need to fill the fraught silence. Jane loosens his hold a little on her which at least allows her to move her own arms around him. The contact is frightening in its intensity; they have been this close so very few times in their lives. It feels right and wrong all at the same time. She wants to hold him and weep and weep and weep. But she knows that is not who she can be tonight, maybe she could get to that place if this were to ever be over. Maybe.

Tonight she knows she will have to comfort Jane, reassure him and get their partnership back to a more solid place. He moves his hands to her shoulders and pulls back to look into her eyes; she doesn't blink and tries so very hard to tell him how much he means to her in the only way she is ever allowed. She holds his eyes and silently tells him she would do it again; that she would face Red John again, face anyone for him. She hopes so much that he can understand her soundless words.

He moves his hands to cup her face and for a few seconds she almost believes he is going to kiss her but he regards her with anguished contemplation for long moments and then moves to lead her over to the couch. He sits and then pulls her down to rest next to him. She is exhausted all over again from all that they have not said in the last few moments.

She rests her head on his shoulder and curls her legs underneath her body as she sits back as close to him as she will comfortably allow herself. Jane has his arm round her back, his warm hand resting against the curve of her hip. She wishes her memory palace were as powerful as Jane's as she needs this moment to remain in there forever. She feels closer to this man than anyone she has ever known, and for these few moments she_ is_ close by him and that is enough.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Lisbon. I know today was my fault, and I want you to hear me when I tell you how sorry I am."

"Today was Red John. All Red John. I know the two of us arguing was all our own doing, but that didn't lead to him taking me – it just gave him the opportunity to do it quicker. This wasn't you, Jane. I'm okay. We're both okay. And we will catch this man."

"He wants to hurt you Teresa; he wants us to know he's coming for you."

His fingers dig painfully into her hip as he admits this awful truth. They both know he's coming for her again, and that she is only alive in these early hours because a serial killer wants her to remain on earth for a while longer.

She turns her head to risk a gentle kiss to his shoulder, wanting him to know she understands how wounded he has been by today.

"He won't get me, Jane. I have the best team, and I have you. And I have myself. All of us combined are stronger than Red John. We are, I won't accept you telling me otherwise. We will find a way to beat him. We _will _find a way to survive this. All of us."

Jane leans down to rest his head against Lisbon's, words beyond him as he concentrates on keeping his breathing regular. He wanted to come over and reassure the woman sitting beside him, he wanted to hold her and yell at her and hold her some more. He can't work up the energy to yell at her for almost being dead; he just wants to hold her because she has remained alive.

He returns again to the dark places he went earlier when he considered life without her, when he truly believed she had been taken from him. He promised himself he would tell her everything if she was returned to him, but he hadn't considered quite how difficult the words would be. He needs her to know how singularly important she is in his life, he needs her to know she _is _what remains of his life. But he is afraid that her goodness and her kindness will colour her actions and her responses. He doesn't want to insinuate himself any further into her life if that is not what she needs or wants. And yet he can't imagine that he will ever want to be more than three feet away from her ever again.

"You okay Jane?"

He almost laughs at her question; it's so very _Lisbon _of her to worry about him when she should be on her knees with what she has had to live through today. He wants so very much to tell her how precious she is, how loved she is but he can't risk her heart like this anymore than he wants to risk her life. It's far too late for him to harbour any notions of protecting her life, but he recognises that he shouldn't be here if he wants to attempt to keep her heart safe.

"I'm fine Lisbon. How are you?"

"Fine too."

This time he does laugh out loud, but it's a hollow sound in the quiet of her living room.

"Can I do anything Lisbon?"

"I'm _fine _Jane; he didn't hurt me not really. I'm fine."

"Okay."

She hears the disbelief in his voice, the hurt almost, but she wants to lie down and sleep now. Maybe she'll need to take a sleeping pill, but for a few hours she wants oblivion from responsibility and pain.

"We'll talk tomorrow, or later today Jane. We can talk and plan our way out of this, you know we can. I can get you some blankets if you want to sleep on my couch, or if you don't want to do that then at least go to a hotel and attempt rest."

Something tightens in his chest at Lisbon's whispered words, and he wraps both of his arms around her and draws her to lean against his chest.

"Please don't make me leave here, Teresa. Please don't make me leave you."

Lisbon returns his embrace as best she can, resting her free arm against the buttons of his vest as she tries to pull him closer to her.

"I'm scared Jane, really scared."

"He won't get to you again Lisbon, I promise. He won't get close enough to hurt you again."

He whispers his words into her hair, as he tries to align every part of himself that he can next to her. He finds himself uniquely unwilling to allow any distance between them.

"I'm not afraid of Red John, Jane. I'm afraid of me. I'm afraid of how selfish I want to be."

He moves them from their almost comfortable place against the cushions of the couch as he takes hold of Lisbon's hand and stands in front of her as she remains seated. His sudden movement almost embarrasses him but the thought of Lisbon thinking herself selfish made him need to be doing something. He moves to lean down on the floor in front of where she sits, her hands clasped between both of his.

"Be selfish Teresa, I want you to be selfish. Leave here. Run. Get away from here and go and live. Be selfish Teresa."

There are tears on his cheek, apparently the emotion behind his words needing some sort of physical release.

"I'm not leaving you, Jane."

"You should, Lisbon. You should be selfish, and you should leave."

She stares at him with eyes filled with utter frustration and wonder. She doesn't think she will ever be able to understand this complicated and mercurial man. Doesn't mean she can't _want, _and right now in the aloneness and the darkness of the early hours she is having such trouble fighting that.

She leans forward to rest her head against his chest and his right hand instantly reaches to curl around the back of her neck. He absently rubs at the soft skin there, breathing easier with every single moment of connection they allow themselves.

"I don't want to leave, how could I leave? I want to be selfish and stay. I'm scared of all that I want."

Her words are so soft, almost silent, but giving voice to them is the bravest she has felt all day.

"Tell me, and I'll help Lisbon. You're never selfish and maybe you need to be. Let me help you for once, let me help you."

He raises their joined hands to his lips and tries to make her understand the truth of his words.

She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to finally admit these words when they have been the great silence between them for so many years. Instead she simply leans forward and kisses him.

He feels the firm pressure of her warms lips against his own for several moments before he completely registers what is happening. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears the words _Lisbon is kissing me…_ When he catalogues the euphoria in these imagined words he acknowledges he should do something to. So gradually he kisses her back.

It's clumsy and awkward, and passionate and _right._ Lisbon's full lips are perfect against his, and he wraps his arms around her to pull her warmth closer to him. She has her hands on his vest, pulling at buttons and trying to free him from his clothes as she feels the first touch of his tongue against her own. They kiss like this for long moments, then Lisbon pulls away to place affectionate kisses against his jaw. They are breathless and scared and happy all at once.

She rises and takes Jane's hand and leads him from her living room to the privacy of her bedroom.

She helps him out of his jacket, out of his vest and then his shirt. She runs her thumb across the precious skin of his bare chest as she tries to keep this part of him to herself. She knows this will probably be her only chance to be with him like this, while they are both too desperate and afraid to think of the _wrongness _of what they are doing. She is afraid that if she speaks then what she wants most in the world will be taken away from her, so she decides that her lips will only be used to wordlessly communicate her devotion.

She steps away from Jane and pulls her sweatshirt over her head, exposing her pale skin as she tosses her shirt to the floor. He is frozen in awe at how lovely she is as she stands before him like this. He watches entranced as she removes her sweatpants and then stands naked in front of him with her hand against heart.

"Please be selfish with me, Jane. Please?"

He knows they should talk, that he should tell her words of devotion aloud before he touches her. But she is here, and beautiful and so clearly _his_ that he can't resist becoming lost in the seduction of her touch.

He pulls her into his arms and they both gasp helplessly at the astonishing pleasure of the first touch of their heated skin against skin. They stumble onto her bed and forget for a while that anything exists outside of the private world they can create together.

Lisbon lays awake in her bed as Jane sleeps almost soundly beside her. His arm is around her, holding her close to his chest and she allows herself the unfamiliar pleasure of contentment for a few minutes. She accepts she will need to be the smart one and be out of bed before he awakens and they have to endure the awkwardness of the aftermath of their impulsiveness. She briefly rests her hand against Jane's before she attempts to leave her bed.

Jane is awake enough to realise the warm body lying alongside his is trying to remove itself from their cocoon of satisfaction.

"Lisbon. Lisbon."

His words are overly loud in her bedroom.

"Hush Jane, go back to sleep. I'm just going to shower."

He is motivated by her words into movement. He catches her body back against his just as she is about to leave the bed. He is sitting up on the bed with Lisbon pulled back flush against him, his arms around her, his hands resting affectionately on her bare stomach.

"Jane I need to go clean up."

"You can't leave here. Stay."

"No, I need to go clean up – we weren't exactly careful Jane and I need to get Red John off me too…"

He silences her words with the touch of his tongue to the back of her neck. He kisses his way along her shoulder too, telling her with his lips how utterly she is adored. He strokes her belly and smiles into her skin as she relaxes back against him.

"You're not leaving this bed without me, Teresa."

He moves his lips lower, kissing along the length of her spine to reinforce the message of his words.

"I want to shower, Jane."

"Well I am not willing to let you go long enough for you to leave here."

He can feel that she is ready to bolt from the bed, and he wants to kick himself for his impulsiveness earlier. He _should _have spoken to her before going to bed with her, or spoken to her months ago, or years ago actually.

He can give her the words now though.

Jane keeps her body close to his own as he rests his forehead against Lisbon's back. She feels so slight and yet wonderfully strong when she is in his arms like this.

"You're not leaving this bed without me, Teresa."

He repeats his words to convince her of their truth.

"Please Jane you're only going to make this harder."

"Good, I don't want you to leave."

"I know that now, but when the sun rises in a few hours and this is over then it'll be more difficult to leave then. Let me do this now, and we can be ready for work in the morning."

He loosens his hold on her so that he can move them around on the bed so that they sit facing each other, uncomfortably resting against the tangled sheets. He takes her face between both of his hands and traces her skin with the pads of his fingers.

"This isn't something that is ever going to be over Teresa, we both know that. This wasn't _goodbye_ darling, this was for me exactly what it was for you. You should know and accept that."

She is blinking rapidly, trying desperately to hold back tears. She is feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she ever has before, but she can't escape this confrontation as she is so completely surrounded by Jane's embrace.

Jane trails gentle kisses across Lisbon's face, trying to erase by touch and tenderness the indelible marks made earlier by Red John.

"You make me feel safer and happier just being in the same room as you Lisbon. You're _goodness _has been my saviour for so many years. I'm sorrier than I can say that he tried to take that away from you, that he tried to taint you with his poisonous touch today. But you're here, and you _lived _and that's joyous. I can't believe how ridiculous it is that I've been able to feel _joy _today. I've imagined us together like this for so long, and I don't care how we've ended up here, just that we have. Tell me you don't want this and I'll let you go. And remember Teresa, we both know you're incapable of lying."

Lisbon presses her cheek further against Jane's hand, needing the contact and to believe that this is real. Jane closes the distance between them and kisses her eyelids, her cheeks, and her chin and then brushes the softest of kisses against her lips. His heart swells at the unbidden smile he manages to bring to her lips.

"You're a miracle Teresa; you almost make me want to acknowledge the existence of the divine."

Jane holds her cross between his fingers as he admits this to her, then he practically glows with pleasure as he watches the trembles his words causes.

"That you are still here Teresa; that you've always stayed, that you care, that you're _you… _If I were a better man I would have stayed away from you but instead I can't let you go. I want more; I'm always going to want _more _of you. Please, please tell me you understand he has not marked you – you're not _his._ You don't need to clean Red John from you because he's not there."

He leans his lips on her shoulder, sucking on the sensitive skin there; his left hand is on her back again, trailing the tips of his fingers across her skin.

"Tell me you know darling, tell me that today has made you as unwilling as I am to deny _life _anymore. When it's just the two of us alone – while it has to be _just us_ that knows we're together, tell me you know. For all the horror we've endured, for all the pain I've brought you – _you _have made me stay alive for something other than revenge and misery. I know how much Red John hurt you by putting his hands on you and taunting you – but he'll never get to do it again."

This time he can't help himself, he takes her lovely face between his hands again and he presses his lips against Lisbon's. He breathes her breath for long moments, convincing himself of her life.

"You're all the love that's left in my life Teresa and that will be true until I die, and he simply doesn't get to have you."

"He doesn't _have _me Jane. You know_ you_ do, you know that. But even if that's true it doesn't mean we should do this right now. Maybe we should put this to one side until Red John is…"

He stops her words with his kisses, this time the gentleness has gone and he is insistent and passionate in his attention. Part of her wants to keep her eyes closed to better savour this beautiful dream state she seems to be in. Part of her wants to never close her eyes again so she can catalogue every detail of every moment she is sharing with Jane.

"You're my partner Teresa, and I don't want to be without you anymore. If he hurts you I won't_ live_ without you – but right now I mean I don't want to _be _without you anymore. I learned that today. Do you understand?"

She wants to yell her agreement but instead she kisses the skin over his heart, overwhelmed with tenderness and love.

"I understand, Jane. But I'm scared."

"Me too darling, I'm terrified. But you're more important than my fear. We can be scared together. Well you can be gorgeous and scared, and I'll just be scared."

"_Jane, _I'm serious."

"Of course you are, I am too. You are more important than anything, Teresa – we're both just going to have to get used to that."

And that's the last words uttered between the two of them for the next few hours. Jane pulls Lisbon back under the covers and curls his body around hers' in the position he hopes he will get to lie with her for the rest of his life. Lisbon savours the feel of his solid warmth wrapped around her, and hopes so very much that they will be able to survive long enough to love each into the future.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, am simply borrowing them for the purposes of this story.

AN: A short second chapter to Marked for Death, this time from Jane's POV. Nothing much happens, and it might be a bit too cloyingly sweet for some.

Marked for Death Chapter Two

Lisbon's sleeping beside me and I can't bring myself to close my eyes. I feel entirely unwilling to let her slip from my gaze. For the last twelve nights I have lain in this bed with Lisbon, and I have cherished each and every second of the time I have gotten to share with her.

Usually I am able to sleep for a few hours with her warm body beside mine; the heat of her skin against my own is fast becoming my absolute favourite sensation in life. It's yet one more reason that I vow over and over again that Lisbon will live, and that I will live with her. And we will be free of Red John finally.

We are no closer to catching him, but I think all of us have needed a few days to recover from the almost devastating loss of Lisbon. And we've had the workload of another two additional cases to work on, as Red John has seemingly retreated after his most recent horrific acts.

I know we are closer than we have ever been in our pursuit of him, I know we are closing the distance between him and his freedom to murder.

It's never been more important that we stop him, now that it's not simply my beautiful family I need to avenge, but also my beautiful Lisbon.

I believe I can claim the privilege of calling her _my _beautiful Lisbon now, these nights we have spent together have been passionate, precious and a promise of what will be when this is all over. Lisbon would tease me if she knew I was thinking like this, and she would certainly tease me over my ridiculous alliteration. I definitely need to sleep if these are the places my mind is taking me.

I can't sleep, though – I know I won't tonight, but I will spend the next however many hours in contentment with Lisbon beside me. After our first night together, when I surprised even myself with the demands I made on Lisbon - when I insisted that we actually start with the _living _of our lives I know Lisbon believed she would be able to hold back and return to our usual pattern of circling each other and surviving on glances, intentional chaste touches, and _wanting _more than we allowed ourselves to feel. I couldn't go back to that life after learning what it was to have her kisses and hear her delightful sighs of pleasure.

I couldn't go back to the both of us being alone, and I couldn't leave her alone and have _him _think that Lisbon was not already _owned._ I tried to explain this to Lisbon a few days ago and she very charmingly, and powerfully, punched me in the shoulder, bemoaning my insufferable need for possession. I frankly took that as a compliment. Nonetheless, Lisbon attempted to return to the distance between us after the first night we were together, and I wanted to make her happy and keep my distance – but I wanted to be near her so very much more. Breathing is easier when I am near her, and living is so much more vivid when I am touching her. So I attempted to stay as near her as I could, by sleeping in my car outside her apartment. She left me there till just after 2am then called me and instructed me to come sleep beside her already.

I have ever since.

Well, we sleep and we _love _actually. We haven't given voice to this, but I have adored her with my body and she has certainly welcomed me gladly into her tender embrace.

Lisbon is exhausted tonight, she has never slept quite so deeply before while I have been with her and I am grateful for this chance to simply enjoy listening to her breathing while she lies in my arms.

I am thankful for this time to catalogue all of the ways that Lisbon is precious to me. It comforts me in the dark of the night that Red John is out there somewhere seeing her only in shades of _red. _He can't know how utterly, utterly wrong he is about that. She is so very much more complex, startling and magnificent. He must believe he has insinuated his way into her life, into her consciousness with his taunting and attempts of control. It comforts me that I _know _her while he will only every attempt to, and I have to believe this is what will help to keep her safe. She is as necessary to me as breath, and I refuse to let her go. Ever.

I move her long hair to the side, so that I can rest my lips against her neck as I pull her closer to me. She is truly drained tonight as usually a move like this will cause at least a little sleepy grumble of discontentment. I wrap my arms completely around her and rest my hands against her bare stomach. She is so slight in my arms I have to remind myself of her infinite strength and unwillingness to ever give in. That's one of her traits that first made me stop and really _look _at her.

She's bewitching.

In the dark like this I can allow myself to be calmed by the knowledge that we _know _each other so completely – and that Red John doesn't understand us quite as well as he thinks he does. Maybe I should admit that he does know me, so much of my life this last decade has been driven in reaction to his acts of death and he thinks I will _react _as I always have. I won't, I can't. I still want him dead, I'll always want his death but I will endure his life if I get to keep Lisbon. I will endure his incarceration instead of his death if I get to sleep in this bed with Lisbon for the remaining days of my own life.

So I lie here and list all the ways that Lisbon is mine, and _known _by me – he marked her in blood, coloured her as _red_ when she is so very much more complex and gloriously alive.

I can't fathom their beauty right now but she will forever be _green _to me because of her magnificent eyes. I have found comfort in looking into those eyes more times than I could ever account for. So many of her emotions can be communicated with just one look – and I flatter myself by believing that to be true between the two of us more than anyone else in the world. I have witnessed her eyes look at me while shining with laughter, intensity, radiance, fear, defeat, and sadness and despair. Though in all these years she's never flinched. I have lately, however, found that my absolute favourite light in her eyes is when she stares back into mine while we are as close as we are ever likely to be. When we are together she maintains an intense contact with my own eyes which is entirely seductive. And then after as we lie wrapped around each other and she smiles at me and her happiness and contentment is reflected back at me in her exquisite green eyes I know I am the only person who will ever get to see that particular shade ever again.

She is also known to me by those secret places I assume will only ever be shared between the two of us. Her pale skin on her inner thighs, the impossibly soft pale skin of her breasts – these shades are only known to the two of us, and their velvety white colours will forever sustain me.

But she has always been sunshine too, her heart and spirit and hope have always made me think of the warm orange of the late afternoon sun. I know for a long time I was the cause of the disappearance of warmth and hope from her life – I took that colour away from her, but I know that won't happen anymore while I breathe.

So I lie here beside Lisbon and think of all the numerous and wonderful ways she is known by me, and the most perfect part is I haven't even begun to explore how I am known and owned in return. She might talk about us in less emotional language but I understand that our connection is just as real when witnessed through those gorgeous eyes of hers.

I'm going to lie with her like this every night, be as close to her as I can every day, and we will protect each other in every way as we prepare to defeat Red John. He can't ever really understand the connection between the two of us, which makes us almost impenetrable I hope.

I know the last time I loved – a love that could never, ever end – I didn't appreciate that it could be ruined and destroyed by forces outside of my understanding. I've lived with that reality for so long, I know _this _love could be just as easily destroyed but I have to bear that in order that I get to be with Lisbon. I know anything could be borne if I got to rest with her with my hands around her like this, my fingers stroking any and all of her skin within my reach.

"Jane, you're supposed to be sleeping."

I recognise that tone, she's less than pleased to have been woken up by "_my nonsense"_ as she likes to claim. I love her when she's like this.

"I couldn't sleep, there's a Lisbon sized distraction in bed next to me."

"Hush."

"Never."

I kiss her shoulder, aligning our bodies so that we lie flush against each other, selfishly needing this time with her to prepare for another day when I can't be near enough or touch her enough.

"Lisbon, can we stay here tomorrow? You call in sick and I'll be irresponsible and simply not turn up for work. I feel the need to spend the day in bed and have you to myself."

"Sure."

I smile against her back, loving her sleepy disgruntled words almost as much as I love her when she is awake and yelling at me.

"Jane, the alarm is still set for 6am – right? I need to be at work for an early meeting."

"Of course it is darling, I know you too well to think I could ever persuade to play hooky with me."

I lean forward and kiss her cheek, and lie beside her in the quiet of the night and wait for another new day to begin.


End file.
